ELLIOT

I knew I was driving her crazy. I wanted to…

Every morning she sat front and center in my workshop, swinging one of her mile-long legs back and forth, torturing me. I watched her listening and absorbing every detail I talked about. Her eyes never left me.

While I went over outlines and character formations, she watched me. And I thought about what I’d like to do to her when she finally made her decision, that I was the one. That we were meant to be together.

I wanted to use my tongue to lick every single inch of her while she moaned…

“What helps you when you have writer’s block and you can’t seem to shake it?”

The question interrupted my thoughts and I momentarily blanked out of where I was and what I was doing. I had to ask for the question to be repeated and bring myself back to reality.

I glanced at Emily as I answered. She smirked at me with a knowing twinkle in her eyes. It was really bad when I spoke on something and my mind was diving into thoughts that were completely different. Erotic thoughts, tasty thoughts, thoughts that I shouldn’t be having while teaching a class. Thoughts that were always in my mind, day and night … thoughts of Emily.

The workshop ended at two, but since it was the last day, we hung around until four, answering more questions and discussing future classes with people.

Emily helped me pack up. I asked her if she minded coming with me to drop the stuff off in my garage a few blocks away. Picking up one the boxes, she followed me out.

I’d talked about my place with her all week and I was excited to show her what I’d created inside.

The problem was I may never let her leave. Every day it was harder and harder to hold back, which was part of the reason I hadn’t allowed myself to be completely alone with her. I was afraid to let her go away again.

This week had been a gift, every single moment I spent with Emily now was a gift. It was as if the last seven years had become a distant memory. All the longing for her, the pain of walking away, it had come full circle. I wanted her in my life until I no longer had a breath of air left in me and it was my time to move on from this earth. I wanted Emily to be my forever. I just wished I were certain she wanted the same thing, that she was ready for this.

I led the way down the street. I could see the wind picking up from the height of the surf down by the shoreline. The day couldn’t have been more perfect. Low 80’s and a nice breeze, a perfect evening to enjoy out on my deck.

Turning to Emily as we walked, I asked about Andrea.

“She’s catching dinner with some of her colleagues in San Diego,” she replied.

I nodded, making plans in my head: dinner, a bottle of wine, and a stroll on the beach. A whole lot of romance and a lot more lovin’ than I’d ever shown Emily.

I unlocked the door and stepped aside to let her enter first. I set down my box and grabbed hers as she started to make her way up the stairs. I heard her gasp as she stopped at the top of the stairs and looked all around. The expression on her face was pure amazement.

Her eyes lit up as she took a tentative step toward the wall of glass facing the water. I stepped up and around her, opening the French doors. The roar of the ocean filled the room, and the breeze made the gauzy curtains flutter.

I watched her as she moved about, her fingers trailing along the soft tan leather of my couch, brushing the fibers of the cashmere throw tossed on the armrest, touching the polished wood of the hand-carved table behind it that I found on a trip to Kenya, paying a fortune to have it shipped back here.

She examined the copper cookware hanging from a rack next to the stove in the kitchen. The pots of fresh herbs I grew to use for seasoning my creations sat on the countertop positioned to catch the beam of sunlight coming through the windows.

She stopped to gaze at the photographs framed on the walls. Pictures of travels around the world, of people I had met and snapshots we’d taken of our life together, many years ago.

Every room of my house faced either the ocean or the mountains behind me off in the distance. The kitchen was set up so I could look outside as I cooked or entertained. My desk sat in the far corner of the living room, again, standing guard over the water below. I needed the music the ocean sang as I wrote into the early hours of dawn almost every day.

A spiral staircase stood in the corner leading upstairs. Emily paused at the bottom step glancing upward and then back at me.

“Upstairs is my private space. The area I usually don’t show anyone.”

She looked at me again and then slowly started to climb the stairs.

I’m not saying I had never brought a woman to my bedroom, but it had been awhile and it was before I completely remodeled it. Upstairs was my sanctuary. It held my books, the treasures I’d collected over the years, and more photographs … my favorite photographs. Matted and framed, hanging on my wall.

I stepped up behind Emily so I could see her as she discovered the second floor.

My bed was on a platform in the center of the room, covered in grey silk sheets and a handmade quilt. French doors opened to a small deck with two chairs and a table between. In the far corner was a bathroom. A clawfoot tub, windows on two sides, plants surrounding it, gave it a feel of being in the middle of a tropical paradise. A glass and stone walk-in shower and a sink set in an old barn-board cupboard were directly across. A toilet hid behind closed doors. My closets were tucked into the design of the walls. A small sitting area bordered by a railing was open to the first floor.

Emily let out a gasp as she looked up and saw my collection of photographs. She was everywhere, trying to surf, walking, laughing, smiling, and hugging me. These were my favorites.

Pictures of Emily were the last thing I saw at night and the first thing every morning

She walked from photograph to photograph, examining each one. I watched the smile creep up on her lips as she remembered when each was taken. She laughed at the one of her trying to surf. I loved that one. She resembled a drowned rat but I thought she looked so beautiful, determined and wringing wet. I walked over and stood behind her, my arms circling her waist as I pulled her gently into me.

“When did you do all of this?” she asked.

“Over the last four years, I hung them all in here after I finished the room. This is my sanctuary.”

She laughed as she looked around again.

“I’m not sure other women would appreciate my looking down on your bed while they were in it.”

My voice was a whisper inches from her ear.

“No other woman has been up here since I finished the house and hung my photographs.”

Neither of us spoke. The only noise? The ocean hitting the shoreline outside my bedroom window. I could feel Emily relax against me as she accepted what I had just told her was the honest truth.

Slowly I turned her around to face me, brushing the curls from her face and tracing her bottom lip with the side of my thumb. I watched her eyes darken as the pupils dilated in desire. Her breath quickened from my touch. I could feel the heat rising from her skin.

My God I wanted this woman with every part of me. She made me so hard, so needy for her. I felt like I was on fire.

Her voice quivered when she spoke to me. “I need you now, Elliot. I don’t want to keep waiting. I want you to make love to me now.”

My heart almost stopped for a moment. My mind went blank. I needed to stay in control, but I couldn’t. Not with her right here in my arms.

“I want more than just tonight, Emily…”

“So do I.”

And I…

Lost…

All…

Control.